


Beware

by GeminiLoveCA



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Adultery, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Horror, Implied/Referenced Incest, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeminiLoveCA/pseuds/GeminiLoveCA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behold the journal of Lady Margaret Sharpe, the latest victim of the house known as Crimson Peak.</p><p>*warning* Contains some content readers may find objectionable, including discussions of adultery, incest, and abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beware

_January 1, 1891_

_It seems only right to begin the new year in a new journal. As Father made me aware only this morning, this is the year my entire life will change. It seems he has found me a husband._

_Sir Thomas Sharpe is his name. I know little else about him. I asked Lucy, but she said that she was not familiar with the name. He must not circulate much, but he is titled, and therefore I should not worry overmuch. Evidently, he is willing to accept a wife several years past her debut, so I have my concerns. There must be something amiss about him. Time will tell._

 

_January 7, 1891_

_Sir Thomas sent the ring today. His letter stated that the piece had been in his family for many years. He included his regrets that he could not deliver the ring to my hand in person, but felt, given the poor weather of late, that his presence was better served remaining at the family home to oversee repairs and his sister's health._

_The ring was heavy and cold when Father removed it from the box and insisted I put it on. I feel ill at ease with it on my hand, but Mother insists it is simply the nerves of a bride to be. The center stone is sizable, a ruby if I am a decent judge, and good quality. Lucy was quite perturbed when she saw it. I do believe it is the first time in our lives my sister has ever envied me anything._

 

_January 15, 1891_

_I find myself wondering what Sir Thomas is like. Given his seeming hesitance to make a call, I suspect he will be older, perhaps portly and balding? Lucy has told me she learned he is a widower, and that does not bode well. I know at twenty-four my prospects are dwindling, but surely Father would not hand me off to a man his own age? For her part, Mother has insisted on giving me lessons in my wifely duties. As if over the years, I have not come to learn about managing a household and being agreeable, despite my personal feelings on any matter._

 

 

_January 16, 1891_

_Mother meant more than planning menus._

_Today's discussion left me unsettled. I knew from the books I stole from Father's library that there was a physical union between man and wife - after all - animals mate, and we are an animal of a sort. But the idea of submitting my body to a husband I have never seen? I think I may be ill. I pray I can withstand his attentions if my suspicions of him are true._

 

_January 30, 1891_

_Father says that he and Sir Thomas have come to a date for the wedding._

_Sir Thomas will have business to oversee in the spring at the family home and so they wish us to marry before the end of March. It's such a short time to plan. Mother is quite put out by it all. It's as if they think I will sour like milk if they do not get rid of me soon. Or perhaps Sir Thomas is ill and they wish me to be a widow instead of simply suffering a broken engagement? The fact that he still has not called on me does not give me great hope for a happy marriage. Perhaps the house is large enough for us to avoid each other if that is the case._

 

_March 6, 1891_

_I have been woefully remiss in my journal. Mother has had me so busy that my days are full from morning till bedtime. Most of it is silly. As if I need my memory refreshed on dance steps and deportment. I told her I would be better served in mathematics so that I may at least help keep the household accounts. Instead, I would like to tear out my hair in frustration. I have been shuffled from one activity to the next as if I were a doll. I even missed Sir Thomas's visit today. Mother and I arrived in the carriage from my fittings at the dressmaker just as his carriage pulled away. Of all the damnable luck! At least I know two things now: He is alive and well and he is in town._

 

_March 16, 1891_

_Oh journal! Dare I dream? The marriage announcement was in the newspaper yesterday and we had a party to coincide. I finally was able to see Sir Thomas face to face. When he appeared in the ballroom, even Lucy felt her breath had been stolen! Why, he's half the age I assumed! He cut quite the form in his evening dress, and while his dark curls are a bit unfashionable in their unruliness, at least he has a full head of hair. His eyes are also kind and blue, like my own._

_I feared he would find me too plain and dark when we finally faced each other. I am, after all, not fair and blonde like my sister or Mother. Yet, he took my hand and simply led me into the steps of our first dance. Oh! He was a marvelous dancer._

_After tonight, I feel a number of my misgivings diminish. Still, a man that handsome.... why would he be willing to marry me?_

 

_March 29, 1891_

_Lady Margaret Jane Sharpe. It has a particular ring to it, does it not? I sit now in our bedchamber, waiting for my husband (my husband!) to make an appearance. It was far too dark when we arrived here at Crimson Peak for me to see the house properly, and Thomas brought me to our chamber straightaway, saying that parts of the house are still under repair and unsafe to wander alone._

_I suspect at least part of the dower my father gave him will go to fund repairs. It's no matter to me, if I have a lovely home in which to live, with my new family. I know Lady Lucille is here because Thomas mentioned it, but I find it odd that my new sister, even if by law, did not come to greet us on our arrival. I had hopes for a sister to share the days with. Lucy is so busy these days with her own life and her family._

 

_March 30, 1891_

_It was nearly midnight last night when Thomas finally came to me. I had been about to extinguish the lamp and retire to bed alone - and what a sad state on my wedding night! - when he arrived at the door. Oh, what a figure he cut. Even here in the privacy of my bedchamber and my own journal, I blush to recall it. How he looked at me, how he crossed the room and took me into his arms. And the way he kissed me! If that is truly the manner of the French, then I for one say God bless them! I can safely believe by all the laws of both God and England, we are truly man and wife. Although, if last night was any indication of the process of the physical union, I cannot understand why my mother would call such a thing a duty and obligation. Surely it is a privilege to feel so?_

_I have finally met my sister by law._

_She was at table when I came down to luncheon. I had missed breakfast and she chastised me like a naughty child just out of the schoolroom for it in lieu of introduction. I was so taken aback that I didn't even hear Thomas enter the room. He told his sister he was to blame for my lateness to table, that after our long day of traveling the day before, he had wanted to allow me to get some additional rest. But I am sure by the way my cheeks flamed, and that look in his eyes when he cast them my direction, we all knew it was not the carriage ride that had exhausted me._

 

_April 6, 1891_

_I have yet to have a ladies' maid. Thomas insists he can do the job himself. I rather think he enjoys it, although he is much more enthusiastic in the unlacing than he is the lacing. I've missed breakfast twice in the last week, and nearly missed dinner last night as well._

_My days are rather dull. I tend to resign myself to needlework or the library while Thomas is out. The books are better company than Lucille, whose expression is as dour as that of their mother's portrait. They never mention her, but I hope for their sakes she was more kind than her cheerless expression tends me to believe._

_But oh my evenings! I daresay my husband is a man of great passion and vitality, if not virility. Shameless as it sounds, he is more than capable of reducing me to helpless begging with little more than a touch. I find myself watching the clock endlessly come nightfall, for when he takes me to our bed all my loneliness and heartaches of the day seem to vanish. He is my dark angel, come to me._

 

_April 9, 1891_

_Lucille has hired a maid for me. She sent the girl up to wake me for breakfast this morning. It was an embarrassing moment for both of us, seeing as I had been so exhausted last night I fell asleep in the all together. I do believe the maid was as crimson as I while she helped me to dress. It was completely impertinent of her, but she admitted if she had a husband as fine as mine, she might forget her nightrail as well._

_I believe we'll get along just fine._

 

_April 15, 1891_

_Today has been wretched. With Sarah, my maid, in tow, I made a tour of the house, or at least the parts Thomas has deemed safe enough for my wandering._

_While I found portraits of the Sharpes dating back well over a century, I made the mistake of remarking at dinner that I found none of Thomas's late wife, Edith._

_My poor Thomas looked absolutely stricken and excused himself from table abruptly. Lucille had the most odd expression when she informed me that none had ever been painted. If I didn't know better, I would say she looked... triumphant._

_Thomas did not return until well after I had retired to bed, and gave me only the most perfunctory kiss on the cheek before presenting me with his back. Never in all my years have I felt so desperately alone as I did in that moment. I longed for him to take me, or at least take my hand. I asked his forgiveness, for surely I had touched on a sore subject, but he remained silent. It cut, deeply._

_I have enlisted Sarah's assistance in garnering me gossip so I do not make that same mistake again. If the residents of Crimson Peak will not reveal their secrets to me, I must discover them for myself._

 

 

_April 21, 1891_

_The servants, the few I see beyond Sarah, wear such strange expressions. It's as if they fear Lady Lucille, skirting her with such wide berth that their shadows don't even fall on her clothing. The looks I receive, at least when they think I do not see, are more of curiosity and pity. But their worst looks fall on Thomas. I cannot imagine what he has done to earn such open distaste. I've seen at least one maid cross herself when Thomas left the room. Surely he is not that difficult an employer?_

_It took a few days and the bribe of some satin ribbon from my trousseau, but Sarah was finally able to glean information from one of the downstairs maids. She is one of the few who worked in the house while Lady Edith was alive. If what the girl says is true, my poor, poor Thomas! To have his wife go mad like that... And Edith, my God. To lose her father so soon after the wedding. And then their child? I suppose a double blow of that nature might be sufficient to break any woman's psyche. The maid said they told everyone Edith fell when a section of an upstairs balustrade collapsed, but she had her doubts. I wanted to ask why, but when Sarah went to find the girl, Lucille had dismissed her. With her went my only source of information on this house._

_My sense of foreboding is back. It's as if I am trapped in some demented version of a parlor game, for which the rules have never been explained._

 

 

_April 30, 1891_

_After weeks of his cold shoulder, I apologized to Thomas the best way I knew how. I must be becoming a good wife to know how to turn my husband's mind with loveplay. And yet, while his mind was otherwise occupied, I could not help having the distinct sensation of being watched. I found it unnerving. It surely lent a sour note to what would otherwise have been a lovely reunion of our marriage, of our bodies._

 

 

_May 7, 1891_

_I have taken to hiding you, dear journal. If I am asking Sarah to continue to pry on my behalf, I have my concerns what servants are doing the same for my sister by law. I have no doubt she could intimidate them into doing her bidding. She frightens me at times. As Thomas's wife, I should be the mistress of Crimson Peak, so why do they all defer to her?_

 

 

 

_May 16, 1891_

_I was right to hide this journal._

_Oh, what I saw! How I wish I could take back the sight. While in the library, I found the Sharpe family Bible listing all their dates of birth. Thomas's birthday was yesterday and so I enlisted the staff's assistance to make a special dinner for us all. I had Sarah help me dress especially pretty and pin up my hair. When I went into Thomas's office to call him to dinner, I found Thomas and Lucille sitting very close together, their heads together and looks of such tender affection._

_He set her aside when he saw me, but... dare I even put it into writing? It looked as though one of her hands was under his desk and in his lap. I dare not confront them. To accuse my husband and his sister of something as foul as incest? And yet...._

 

 

_May 21, 1891_

_The looks Lucille gives me chill me to the bone. Worse still are the ones Thomas gives her when he thinks I don't see. He looks at her the way he looked at me just a mere month ago. Can it be? Was I only a publicly acceptable substitute for his own flesh and blood? I detest myself because even with this knowledge of his betrayal, I would accept him back if only he would give me but a smile._

 

 

_May 25, 1891_

_I think I am going mad. I must be. Thomas swears I never went into his office. And yet, it is written right here in these pages. This morning, he locked the bedchamber door when he left. Except when Sarah brings my meals, I've seen no one all day._

 

 

_May 29, 1891_

_I've not had my monthly since the wedding. Part of me wants to tell Thomas. If he knew I was expecting our child, surely he would unbar the door? The other part hesitates. What if he fears I will lose this child as Edith lost hers? I love him too dearly, despite myself, to hurt him thus._

 

 

_June 6 (?), 1891_

_I have lost track of days. My mind, it plays tricks on me. There are shadows in the mirrors that cannot be. Faces of people I do not know look back at me. The reflections twist and blacken and reach for me until I scream and hide beneath the bedding like a child in my nursery. Ha ha. How amusing! Even in madness, I can still make a simply rhyme!_

_What I would give to see Thomas! I have been calling for him through the door but he does not respond. Why won't he come let me out?_

 

 

_June 9 (?), 1891_

_Please, Thomas. Please let me out. I'll not tell a soul. I promise. I love you. I will be biddable and sweet and never, never speak a word... just unlock the door....._

 

 

_June 14, 1891_

_I know the date today. That.... demoness that masquerades as my dear sister by law... came to my room. The things she said about Thomas! Her pointed comments about his passions, his drive. I covered my ears to keep from hearing, but she only pulled my hands away, pinned me to the floor and screamed at me. The things she knows about him, about me, how could she know? These things, so personal.... she could only know them if she had watched us together or if she had lain with him herself._

_She laughed in my face, that wretched creature. She said that Edith had been no hindrance to her and neither would I. Surely, she is some kind of monster sent from Hell to torment me. I wonder now if Edith actually fell? I would not put it past Lucille to have given her a push. I wonder if the same fate awaits me?_

 

 

_June 16, 1891_

_I have taken to talking to the moths in the wallpaper as they come and flutter about my open hands. It seems they are my only companions now. I have not seen my husband in a month. Sarah only shakes her head and looks at the door when I try to engage her. Whatever happens beyond the walls of this room, it has put a fright to her the likes of which I have never seen._

_The water served with my meals tastes odd. I poured it out the window instead. I would rather drink my own used bathwater. They may drive to it yet._

 

_June 19, 1891_

_Fear not, my little one. I will get us away from this place. Even if Thomas does not come. Why doesn't he come for me? Have I been that poor a wife? Thomas, I miss you.... please. Please come for me._

 

 

_June 21, 1891_

_I know how we will leave. Lady Lucille (bah! She ought to be Lady Succubus!) will never lay her hands on you. I see her coming in at night, when she thinks I'm sleeping. I feel her hand on my shoulder, that cold, bony, skeletal hand, around my body, trying to feel my womb._

_No, you are my child, not hers. Never hers. The Devil take her and Thomas both. Surely as often as they consummate their union, the fact she remains barren is God's punishment on them both. I think I hear her, in the hall outside my room, telling Thomas that they can raise you as their own. I have heard them in Lucille's room just down the hall. How brazen they are now, to be so vocal in their carnal pleasures._

_I think he does it to torment me. As sickened as I am, my body remembers his. His pleasure speaks to some desperate, sick part of myself, draws me to the door, where I sit and cry for my husband. Oh Thomas.... come to me, just tonight. I think I could bear anything if you would just let me see your beautiful face once more._

 

 

_June 30, 1891_

_They sent Sarah up with water for a bath. I gave her the water that came with my meal and she went into a deep slumber. I knew it was tainted! It made me so grateful that I had the presence of mind to begin refusing it. I am sorry, my dear friend, that I had to steal your clothing and leave you alone in that place._

_In Sarah's place, I made my way downstairs to look for Thomas. The horror, the absolute horror! I knew it to be true, but to see it with my own eyes. My husband and his own sister, nude, together, in congress! I fled out of doors as quickly as I dared without giving away my disguise. I could not hitch the carriage alone, nor even manage a saddle, so I took a horse bareback. One of the servants put out the alarm as I raced past him, but the rest averted their eyes. I gave them my silent thanks – surely they understand why I must flee! My sanity, indeed my very life, depends upon my escape!_

_I could hear them behind me, giving chase on steeds of their own, my name shouted on the wind. I dare not look back, for they both ride like the very Horsemen themselves! If they catch me, I am killed. They cannot risk that I will speak of the things I have seen in that house, of their decadent and disturbing predilections._

 

 

_July 5, 1891_

_I cannot go back to my family. If there is any place Thomas will look for me, it is there. I sold the horse and the ring. I only got a portion of either's value, but it must be enough to buy passage out of England. There is no other choice. I fear he will never give up the search for me, for our child, if I remain here._

 

 

_July 7, 1891_

_I have found passage on a ship bound for America. I had a bar maid book the ticket as a widow, Mrs. Elinor Findley. I hope the real Mrs. Findley, my sister Lucy's mother by law, will forgive me someday. The deception was necessary. I also had her purchase me a great deal of black dye. I could not risk being seen buying a window's weeds, so I must make due._

 

 

_July 15, 1891_

_Seven days out to sea. Despite having lost my meals overboard continuously since boarding, I feel more clearheaded than I have in months. Each nautical mile I place between myself and England's shore brings me a tiny bit of peace._

_They called the ship's doctor for me, and he says that I will be well soon enough. It seems the majority of my sickness is not caused by the sea, or by you my little one, but by the copious amounts of laudanum that Thomas and Lucille had been adding to my food._

_I inquired with the doctor, discreetly of course, as to the drug's effects. It explains the shadows and crawling walls I saw, the desperate swings of both mood and mind that I endured in their home. My madness was artificial, designed and executed with as much deliberation as his marriage of me for my dower funds._

_I wonder what he will tell people? He cannot admit I have fled his tender affection. I suppose my parents will hear that I succumbed to some illness, and attend a funeral where Thomas will bury an empty coffin. How it pains me to know I will never be able to see them again, to never tell them the truth, that I live still.  I hope that two dead wives will be enough evidence of his foul and black heart to prevent some other bride from becoming his next victim._

_I receive many looks of sympathy, the young widow with only her unborn child by which to remember happier days. Happier days, what a farce. I feel... a fool. I wanted to believe. But a man who looks like him, who loves like him, who would lie with his wife and his own sister as well? He must be the Devil himself. I married the Devil, and I pray God will forgive me for it._

_I must put that place out of my mind. I must forget I ever met Thomas. That I ever loved him. I must forget Crimson Peak._

_Remember that, my child. Beware Crimson Peak. Behind those doors lie nothing but madness and misery._

_Beware Crimson Peak._

 

~~~

 

"Mother, what are you looking at?"

 

I smile, wrapping the old journal back in my scarf and tucking it under the bed. "Nothing, Thomas dear. Best you go out and play now. Dinner will be ready shortly." I watch him skip out the door. Oh, how like his father he looks. I pray nightly that Thomas the elder will never know where I have fled. I pray that the sickness of mind that infects his family has passed by our son. No, my son. Not his. Never his.

 

And may Thomas the younger never find out the truth.


End file.
